Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 December 1883 — Page 2

SONGS OF COWBOYS, FIRST COWBOY. ' I’m the howler from the prairies of the West; )t»yon want to die with terror, look at me. I'm chain lightning, if I ain't, may I be' blessed. I m thesnorter or the boundless prairie. Clwrus-THe's a killer and a hater; He's the great annihllator; He’s the terror of the boundless prairie. SECOND COWBOY. I'm the snoozer from the upper trail; I’m the reveller in murder and gore; I can bust more Pullman-ooaches on the-rail T han any one who’s worked the job before. Chorus- He’s a snorter and a snoozer: He's the great trunk-line abuser: He’s the man who puts the sleeper on the rail. THIRD COWBOY. I’m the double-jawed hyena from the East: I’m the blaring, bloody blizzard of the States; I'm the celebrated slogger, I'm the beast: I can snatch a'man bald-headed while he waits. Chorus—He's a double-jawed hyena; He’s the villain of the scena; He can snatch a man bald-headed ’ while he waits. —Post-Dispatch. THE WORN WEDDING-RING. Your wedding-ring wears thin, dear wife; ah, summers not a tew, ===?=: Since I put it on yhur finger first, have passed o’er me and you; And, love, what changes we have seen—what cares and pleasures, too— Since you became my own dear wife, when this old ring was new! Years bring fresh links to bind us, wife—young voices that are here. Von nr faces round our fire that make their yet moye makes vet. more like to you, —— More like the loving heart made mine when this old ring was new. And oh, when death shall come at last to bid me to my rest, May I die looking in those eyes and resting on that breast; Ob. may my parting gaze be blessed with the dear sight of you, Of those fond eves—fond as they were when this old ring was new. -The Lark.

Taking Up Some Plants.

“My dear,” said Mrs. Spoopendyke, looking up from her plate, and regarding her husband earnestly. “My dear, it is getting late in the season, and I’m afraid my plants will be spoiled by, the frost. Don’t you think it is time they wevetakpn in?” “I don’t know," reylied Mr. Spoopendyke, laying down his paper and pegging away at his breakfast. “I don t think anything will spoil those measly shmubs. Thev never bear anything, and I should thiifk they would do as well out doors all whiter as anywhere else.” “Yes, they do bear, too,” remonstrated Mrs. Spoopendyke, springing up in defense of the scrubby old bushes she had nursed for three or four years with the most exemplary patience. “One of them had a bud on last spring, and if they are kept in the house this winter, they will do splendidly next season.” “P’raps so,“ sniffed Mr. Spoopendyke. “If you think so, why don’t you take ’em up ?" “Won’t you do it, dear ?” smiled Mrs, Spoopendyke, sweetly. “I don’t think lam strong enough, but I will show you how, and I wish you would take them up.” “Come on!” replied Mr. Spoopendyke, dropping everything and preparing for the fray. “I’ll get those precious orchids up in about a minute. Come out and point your finger at the ones you are most solicitous about, and watch the operation.” Mrs. Spoopendye put on her bonnet and followed her husband into the garden. “Yon want to be a little careful with some of theih,” she suggested. “A good many of them are tender plants, and want to bd*handled gingerly.” “You trust me,” remarked Mr. Spoopendyke, grabbing a rose bush with both hands and giving a prodigious jerk. “Dog gast the bush!” he roared, as his hands slipped ogT, leaving twothirds of the skin behind. “Is that the thing you want handled tenderly ? Got any more of these sensitive exotics that can’t stand the frost ? Is this the thing that had the bud on it last spring?” and he took a fresh hold and ripped at the plant vindictively. Once more he slipped and left a little more hide on the thorns. “I didn’t mean that one,” squealed Mrs. Spoopendyke, her attention called, for the first time, to the bush he was hauling at. That one is to be covered up with straw.” “Oh, this is to be covered up with straw, is it?” demanded Mr. Spoopendyke, moistening his hands and preparing for s ' attack. "As I understand the thing, this particular shrub wasn’t to come up. All right. Only the shrub and I are looking at it from different standpoints. The shrub and you appear to see it alike, put I have got hold of the tail of an impression that it is very liable to come up, or have me for company, until it begins to bud again. Now, let’s see who’s right!” and Mr. Spoopendyke went at the bush again with a grim determination to conquer. But the bush held on, and in five minutes Mr. Spookendyke had left enough skin on the stalk to make a pair of gloves.

“Try some of the others said Mrs. Spoopendyke, in distress. “Begin on some of those little ones. I am more particular about those.” “I won’t," Replied Mr. Spoopendyke, gathering fresh energy from defeat. “Think if those little ones w ill come up any quicker if they»see me licked by this big one! Stand back and give me room. Something is going to give way now, or the bottom of this garden is coming out!” and once more the worthy gentleman went at his enterprise with portentous countenance. s This time the bush came up more suddenly than he had expected it would, and he landetj on his back among the other plants. “Told you .so!” he growled, as he fired the obnoxious bush over the fence. “Another time you make up your mind to wrap a thing like that in straw, you do it before I catch hold of it, if you want me to save enough hand to tell my fortune by. Next! Point out the additional greens to be rescued from the biting blasts of winterl This one of them ?” and he caught hold of a tough old geranium, “Come into the house Out of the cold 1" he cried, apostrophizing the’ plant. “Let the fate of the ether fellow be a warning unto you all not to trifle with Spoopendyke! Come forth tTom the teeming earth and be blessed with ligli and warmth in the

garret!” and he took a death grip on the plan| half way beneath the root and the top. “Let there be no holding back, but draw nigh and be saved!” and he leaned back, the leaves glided through ■his torn hands and down be came with a thump that shook the ground under him. "Another candidate for straw!” he howled, as he made another dive for the enemy. “One more drooping grave decoration born to blush unseen and waste its Spoopendyke on the surrounding districts! Let there be no misunderstanding about this! Let it not be said by comjng generations that this drooping old ghost of departed perfumes did not catch fully on to my measly designs!” and he jumped at the bush and- wound it around his hands. “The question before the house is, dirt cr Spoopendyke, shall the ground absorb him, or shall the dod gasted fruit of much cultivation let go its hold and come out of the garden, Maud!” and with this exordium, delivered with a yell, Mr. Spoopendyke broke the geranium off short and sent it over the fence to join the rose. “ You are losing them all,” cried Mrs. Spoopendyke, her face flushed and her soul vexed by the fate of her plants. “I wanted to save that one.” “Next year we’ll plant ’em the other end up, and then they’ll grow out of the ground of their own accord!” snorted Mr. Spoopendyke, making-for a tuberose. “Now’, let’s see what this thing is tied to! If it isn’t made fast to a Chinese laundry on the other side of the globe, we’ll see what the bottom looks like before the intense could sets in!” “Don’t pull that up!” protested Mrs. Spoopendyke in despair, “I only want to save the bulb of that!” “Hear what the lady says!” demanded Mr. Spoopendyke, grasping the stalk and spreading his legs for an unparalleled exertion. “We are indifferent to the upper works, but the bulb has become a matter of necessity! Put aside vain pride and show—!” but here he put in all his strength and rolled half way across the garden, crushing vines and shrubs and winding up against the fence with a crash that shook every board in it. “Oh, dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Spoopendyke, hurrying to his assistance. “Have you broken your back?” “Did any of the bulb get away?” inquired Mr. Spobpendyke, dazed by his fall. “Am Ito understand that the excavation was not a success ?” he brawled, recovering himself with a mighty effort. “Is there room for the display of any further horticultural energy?” he yelled, making for the spot where the stake came out. Don’t try to hide away from me! I shall linger in this vicinity quite late but what 1 will accomplish my dod gasted design! Come out mte the broad realm of nature, and let us commune!” and Mr. Spoopendyke plowed into the ground and brought up the bulb. “Is it this sweet potato that I have been grubbing away precious time that might have been spent in refreshing prayer?” he demanded with a look of infinite disgust. “Go forth, good bulb, on thy mission of fragrance!” he added with a howl, as he kicked the root with unerring precision into the neighboring lot. “Now for the rest of this hot-house! Lead me into green pastures and by sweet waters, where the balance of this measly matinee is located! Does this thing belong to the show ?” and he caught hold of a tomato vine. “Is there a bulb annexed to this thing of beauty and joy, until I get hold of it ? Be still, sad heart, nutil I get started !” and he wrenched the vine from the socket and flourished it around his head. “One more bulb to hear from!” and he pawed into the earth in vain search for the root, showering dirt in all directions. “There!" he puffed, when he had built a sort of a cave in the place out of which the vine had come. “I’m most through!” and he went at it again. “Dust thou art to dust returnest ne’er was spoken of this hole!” and with this peroration, Mr. Spoopendyke gathered himself up into a lump and came down hard on both feet in the excavation he had made. “I think you're real mean!” sobbed Mrs. Spoopendyke, who had watched the wreck of her flowers in silent wretchedness. “You have ruined them all!” “Haven’t either,” gasped Mr. Spoopendyke, out of breath from his exertions. “That’s all the gratitude ’ you’ve gotf ~™Tve watrnMlhesemeasly things up so that an Arctic winter Would only make ’em sweet. Got any more of this sort of business you’d like to have me attend to before I go to my legitimate occupation ? I’d, prefer to make one job of it, if there is any more job in it!” “No, there isn’t,” squealed Mrs. Spoopendyke, completely out of patience. “I wished you had never touched them!” “Do, do you?” jerked Mr. Spoopendyke, eyeing her with a sinister glance. “Perhaps you are inclined to think that I didn’t do the business with that deference to the preference of the plants you would like to have seen manifested! 1 s’pose you have some kind of a notion that you know more about this class of botany than the undersigned. Well, you haven’t, you hear!. This is my native tongue, and if it hadn’t been for me your measly old graevstones would have rotted, instead of being given to the free winds to disseminate their seed and bear abundantly unto the glory of the Giver of all Good! Get on to that proposition ? Got any objection to that reasonable statement of the facts in this particular undertaking?”

“I might have known that you didn’t know anything about it,” moaned Mrs. Spoopendyke, who was anxious to distract his attention from the fact that there several beds of flowers he had not marauded. “Might, might ye?” roared Mr. Spoopendyke, rising in wrath, as he found it impossible to convince his wife that he had done it all for the best. “Think ye might have known that I didn't know anything about it! With what ye might have known in this world, and what ye don't know, ye Only want a name carved in your back, and the paint scratched off, to be the front seat in the first class in a public school! Some day when it rains, and I can’t get out on account of the toothache, . I’m going tp fit you up with eight lan-

guages and a bad reputation, and start an intelligence office With you!” and with this tribute to his wife’s capacity, Mr. Spoopendyke plunged into the house, put his hat hind side before, and darted out to tell his friend, Specklewottle, that he thought something of buying the lot next door and raising fruit xiext season, as he was sure his experience in farming would stand him in good stead and see him through to complete success. “I don’t care,” murmured Mrs. Spoopendyke, as the door banged after him. and she sat to work to take up the remainder of the plants. “I have found out how much he knows about shrubs. Next spring when I get ready to plant, I’ll ask him to take up some more bulbs, and, when he gets through I won’t have to pay a man to dig up the garden!” and, with this wise disposition of her horticultural ability, Mrs. Spoopendyke finished her job and wrapped her roots up in some of Mr. Spoopendyke's old pants that he was sure to want to go fishing in. - -Drake's Travelers' Magazine.

A Feathered Shepherd.

In South America there is a very beautiful bird called the agimi, or the golden-breasted trumpeter. It is about as large in the body as one of our common barn-yard fowl, but as it hiys longer legs and a longer neck it seems much larger. Its general color is black, but the plumage on the breast is beautiful beyond description, being what might be called iridescent, changing, as it continually does, from a steelblue to a red-gold, and glittering with a metallic luster. In its wild state the agami is not peculiar for anything but its beauty, its extraordinary cry, which has given it the name of trumpeter, and for an odd habit of leaping with comical antics into the air, apparently for its own amusement. When tamed, however,— and it soon learns to abandon its wild ways,—it usually conceives a violent attachment for its master, and, though very jealous of his affection, endeavdrs to please him by a solicitude for the well-being of all that belongs to him, which may fairly be termed benevolence. • It is never shut up at night as the other fowls are, but, with a well-de-served liberty, is permitted to take up its quarters where it pleases. In the morning it drives the ducks to the water and the chickens to their feeding ground; and if any should presume to wander, they are quickly brought to a sense of duty by a sharp reminder from the strong beak of the vigilant agami. At night, the faithful guardian drives its charge home again. Sometimes it is given the care of a flock of sheep; and, though it may seem too puny for such a task, it is in fact quite equal to it. The misguided sheep that tries to trifle with the agami soon has cause to repent the experiment; for, with a swiftness unrivaled by any dog, the feathered shepherd darts after the runaway, and with wings and beak drives it back to its place, not forgetting to impress upon the offender a sense of its error by pecks with its beak Should a dog think to take advantage of the seemingly unguarded condition of the sheep and approach them with evil design, the agami makes no hesitation about rushing at him and giving combat. And it must be a good dog that will overcome the brave bird. Indeed, most dogs are so awed, by the fierce onset of the agami, accompanied by its strange cries, that they incontinently turn about and run, fortunate if they escape unwounded from the indignant creature. At meal times it walks into the house and takes its position near its master, seeming to ask for his caresses. It will not permit the presence of any other pet in the room, and even resents the intrusion of any servants not belonging there, driving out all others before it will be contented. Like a well-bred dog, it does not clamor for food, but waits with dignity until its wants have been satisfied.— 1 Vill Woodman, in St. Nicholas.

A New Industry.

He was in attendance upon one of the numerous social gatherings for which Colonel Percy Yerger, and, in fact, the entire society of Austin, is famed, and he soon voted the whole -affair a sasiserabl e = fsifeFe-an'd" a bore. Casting about for some intellectual stimulant, he met a well-dressed man standing near the door, and immediately entered into a mild conversation. “This is a terrible bbre,” he said, “don’t you think so ?” ‘‘Well, yes,” answered the man, “’tis a. trifle dull; but I’ve done my best ,to cheer ’em up a little, and make ’em all comfortable. I’ve interviewed nearly every one of 'em.” “Let’s go out and take a drink ?” “Well, —er —you see, I can’t leave just now, not, anyway, until the affair breaks up.” “What’s the reason you can’t leave before the thing winds up; got a lady here ?” “No, I haven’t got any lady, but—er —you see I’m hired to entertain these people for the evening—and—and—those clothes I’ve got on belong to Col. Yerger, and I don’t think he has quite got enough confidence in me to leave the house with ’em. I see him looking down this way now. I’m a stranger in these parts. But I’ve got a chum down at the foot of the stairs. His clothes ain’t good enough to come up here ih, and I guess he’ll be only too glad to go out and take a drink with you.”— Texas S ift ings.

Astronomical Artillery.

'/ The other evening a drunken individual stopped at the Methodist College and, with a good deal of interest, watched the jgofessor and his astronomy class making observations by the large telescope. Finally stepping up to the group 'tffe hiccoughed: “See here—you—hie—when are you agoin’ to touch her off? More’n a dozen people have sighted the darfl thing already! Make ready, aim, fire!” But he went off long before the supposed cannon did.— The Hoosier. We like to know the weaknesses of eminent persons: it consoles us for our infirmity Mme. Lambert. ri ; :

A GREAT INVENTION.

The Me Pine Ultra of All Labor-Saving Contrivances.

The problem of the present age is how to lessen, as much as possible, the labor of man. Every year sees such an increase in the number and perfection of labor-saving inventions that it is only a question of time when everything will be done by machinery, operated by perpetual motion. Fifty years ago a man who would have prophesied the time when human beings could talk to each other, while five hundred miles apart, would have been designated a “crank”—provided that term was known in common parlance so long ago. Yet to-day one may almost see' the time in the future when the farmer may sit in his upholstered parlor chair, and by manipulating a little lever on the mahogany table, may cultivate his fields, sow his crops, reap his grain, thresh it, garner it, convey it to market, and sell it at the highest price. B,ut the trouble is all the inventors have appeared to concentrate their efforts at alleviating the laborious lives of the working class—those who are best able to work —and have almost ignored the condition of the people in the smoother walks of life—concrete pavements, and so forth. A tender-hearted inventor has noticed, with sadness, the overworked condition of our society young men, and especially the dudes. By an inexorable mandate of society these young men are Worked nearly to death at tipping their hats to the ladies whom they meet on the avenues and boulevards, and the result of this fatigueing exertion is seen in the deteriorating. condition of the rising generation, and is manifested by .emaciation of the lower limbs, flascidity of the muscles, languidness and indisposition to speak intelligently the United States language. “ Their arms become so decrepit by this constant practice of lifting the hat, and are so strained by the exertion, that the danger of them being talked off by the dudines is greatly increased, and instances of these sad occurrences are becoming only too frequent. Is with a philanthropic desire to lessen this evil and reduce' the labor of the dudes, that the inventor has devoted a portion of his life to the perfection of an invention that will be hailed with delight and five dollars each by the poor, over-worked bank clerks and counter skippers. The invention is a simple contrivance by which a combination of light steel levers, connecting the hat with the shoulder of the wearer, are made to do the duty of the arms in lifting or tipping of the lint. The contrivance is pretty in appearance, does not interfere with any functions of the Body, is nickel-plated or japanned as desired, and is an ornament to the wearer. The dude'who is the possessor of one of these “Chapeau Conniptions,” need never raise his hand higher than bis cigarette, for when he desires to doff his hat to a lady friend all the exertion that is required is to pull the string—the silk tasseled cord—and the hat is gracefully lifted to a fashionable height above the head. — Fort Wayne Hoosier.

Plant Trees on the Roadsides.

Mr. Orange Judd advocates tree planting along the highways, in the American Agriculturist. He says: Trees may ,be planted at any time be fore the ground freezes solid, or as soon as it fully opens in spring. Early spring would be preferable on some accounts; but if left until then, the hurry of work, often delayed by cold and wet weather, is likely to interfere. It is better, therefore, to get every hardy tree possible into its permanent growing place now. And every year it is delayed is no trifling loss. A hundred trees can be set at a cost of ten to twenty dollars, or for almost no’cost, if one has spare time and the saplings are easily available. These may in ten to fifteen years grow to be worth three to ten dollars apiece for needed timber and fuel, or for the fruit or nuts prodnced* It would be greatly to the advantage of the country, its 'climate and its beauty, if the sides of our public highways generally were planted with trees that furnish shade and ornament while growing, and supply at no distant Seriod wood for various purposes, ome years before they mature sufficiently to be cut down for use, new plantings alternating with the older trees can be coming forward to take their places, or slow and quick-growing varieties may be set,_sb that when the latter are removed the former will be large enough to soon fill the gaps. -It is desirable, however, to have together those that somewhat resemble each other in form at the top. We have in mind a broad street, ninety feet -wide, where twenty-five to thirty yearg ago various oaks were set, thirty to forty feet apart, ten feet. from the outside, and between these, in a line with them, quick-growing maples were planted. Becently the maples were all removed, furnishing a cord of wood apiece, with considerable useful timber, and the oaks now stand in two beautiful rows.

As to loss of land from spreading rootspaqd from shade, if planted a few feet from the fence, the roots can be kept from the crops by a deep furrow alopg the inside of the fence every year or two, and the shade will nqt be a serious detiiment —none, at all from trees on the, south side of roads running easterly and westerly. Those on the northerly side of the road furnish a very desirable shade to animals in the adjoining pastures. ,

A Disaster.

Mr. Mulkittle was called laway from home to unite in marriage two young people to whom he was very much attached. “Let me go with you,” the boy im- J plored. “Do let him go,” said Mrs. Mulkittle, with an exhibition of a true mother’s wilHugness to allow the father to assume entire responsibility, for a short time, of a troublesome youngster. “He cannot go,” exclaimed Mr. Mulkittle. “There will be no children present and I don’t know that any are desired. I will be gone several days, entirely too long for a boy to remain away from home.” The boy went away disconsolate, and Mrs. Mulkittle arranged her husband for the journey. the boy had allowed to remain in the lot presented the youngster with a large, shaggy dog. The animal “took” to the boy, and when he had been fed on biscuit and preserves, he seemed to feel well contented. When Mrs- Mulkittle saw the dog,-she was horrified, and commanded the boy to drive him into the street. The youngster, on a pretense of obedience, conducted the animal around the house, and let him up stairs, into the “spare-room.” Here he would pccagifinaHy pay him . visits, bringing such delicacies as a dog’s appetite naturally craves. Mr, Mulkittle had not gone more than half of his journey, when he received a dispatch that the marriage was indefinitely postponed, so boarding an incoming train he reached the city about twelve o'clock at night. “I’ll slip up stairs,” he mused when he reached the house, “and come down to breakfast in the morning. It will be a pleasant surprise, a jbke as it were,” and the fleshy minister shook with quiet laughter. He opened the door with his latch-key, and tip-toed upstairs. When he entered the room and began to feel around for a match and the lamp, he thought he heard a low" growl, but after a few moments he decided that he must have only fancied the noise; however, he did not continue his search for the lamp, but took off his clothes and approached the bed. Just as he kneeled down, a frightful roar and the overturning of a chair made his hair stand up like the bristles on a brush. A dark object leaped at him, and with ay ell the good man rushed from the room. While descending the stairs he was conscious of being pursued, and more than once did he realize that he was losing fragments of bleached raiment. Mrs. Mulkittle shrieked and flew into the hallway just as her husband and the dog struck the floor. She, of course, thought that her husband was a burglar, and while he struggled with the dog, whose teeth had long since been worn off by r‘av ; enous exercises at the bone yard, she seized a “stick horse” that one of the children had hitched in the hall, and gave the minister such a “crack” over the head that he howled with pain, and then, realizing the situation, which a woman never does until all possible damage has been done, shrieked and calted for help. The boy, awakened by the noise, ran into the hall and easily reduced the ferocious animal to submission. Mr. Mulkittle looked at himself and said: “ Why do you stand there looking,at me when you sec I’m torn all to pieces ?” “But she couldn’t see that you are torn all to pieces if she didn’t look at you,” the boy replied. “Drive that devilish dog out of here,” demanded the minister. “If it hadn’t been for some bf your foolishness this wouldn’t have happened.” “An’ if you’der let me gone with you the dog wouldnt’erbeen here.” “Didn’t I tell you to hush?” and the reverend gentleman sought his room. — Arkansaw Traveler.

Thirteen O’clock.

We believe it was Poe who wrote a droll burlesque about the sleepy Dutch village of “Wonderwhattimeitis,” in which he described the whimsical consternation of the inhabitants when one day the clock in the church steeple struck “dirteen.” There is one real example of thirteen o’clock time in England, but the extra number was an economical contrivance, not an accident—though it might almost be called a joke to answer a too.easy excuse for idleless: The Duke of Bridgewater observed that though the men employed by him dropped work promptly as the bell rang, when he was not by, they were not nearly so punctual in resuming work, some straggling in many minutes after time. He asked to know the reason, and the men’s excuse was, that though they could hear the bell when it struck twelve, they could not so readily hear it when it struck one. On this the Duke had the mechanism of the clock altered so as to make it strike thirteen at one o’clock, which it continues to do until this day. Thirteen hours in a half day nAy not happen, but two Sundays in a single week may occur, as navigators have found.

YB NEWSPAPER REPORTER. WHEN HE CHOSE HIS PROFESSION. “Oh. yes! I will seize on the bright shining pen For ’tis ‘mightier than the sword’; I will carve me a name, and then by all men, As a journalist, Fll be adored. I will sway aU their minds with rare gems at thought; A second H. Greeley 111 be; In newspaper columns my words will be sought Thro’ this land and over the sea! v WHEN HE “SHOOK" HIS PBOFESSION. "Ah, me! I have found that a journalist's lot Is not the best ‘snap’ here on earth ; One earns but few scads—has his writings called ‘rot’; And of news there is ever a aearrh! ‘A drunken of the Press,’ Is what I am te>med everywhere. So I’ll tackle the hod for a living. I guess. , And the’bright shining pen’forsweat!'’ - Jes. Jot Tun. bt Fort WagM Hoosir*-

PITH AND POINT.

/ [From Peck’s Sun.] Women may not all be good poker players, bfit they are generally good with the tongs. Yes, and tongues too. “Gone to bury my wife; will be back in thirty minutes,” is the notice found bn a door up in Michigan. Itis evident the wife was buried by the rapid transit company, f . '■ .Talmage wants a piece policy carried 'out among the Mormons, and thinks General Sheridan the man to make the pieces. That is if they want to stamp put the institution-of polygamy so that not a piece of it as large as a sixpence . is left. i > After wrangling for two days without giving signs of coming to an agreement, a Montana jury was brought to an agreement in just about seven minutes after the Sheriff had told them that there was to be a horse race in about an hour. A hen-pecked man can generally stand the racket without any very serious results, but a woman can’t. A hen recently pecked a Pennsylvania woman’s right arm, since which time she has been unable to use it. A henpecked woman is a failure. New York father was opposed to his son getting married and as a last resort seized' on the young man’s wedding garments. . The wedding was postponed. Let’s see. There is a story in a very ancient and revered book which tells of a young man being cast out of a marriage assembly because he had .no wedding garment. The yopng map did well to postpone the marriage, under the circumstances. It is said that the King of Siam, who is only a boy of 20 years, has allowed his finger nails to grow until they are more than a foot in length. This deformity reduces the monarch to a state of helplessness, and for that reason, probably, the Siamese regard long nails as one of the peculiar attributes of sovereignty. There are several boys of twenty, in this country who are apparently “helpless” judging by the way their fathers have to “put up” for them, and there is nothing peculiar about their finger nails either, unless it is t the strip of mourning under the edges. Siam can’t get ahead of America on the “helpless” boy question. [From the Fort Wayne Hoosier.l Sound doctrine—the church bells must go. At a recent duel it required only two seconds to draw up the minutes of the affair. He who pays more attention to his hat than his head shows which is most valuable and which contains the more. Inasmuch as hc wafrabTe to make an unabridged dictionary, it was inferred that Webster never found a man who kept his word. Although they seem to be eternally opening new veins in Colorado, the State is not liable to be bled to death. We can’t say the same for the 'stockholders of the mine, however._L__ “Mr. Joughnes, I hear that your wife has run away. Is it true?” “Yes, it’s a fact.” “Well, ain’t you going to run after her?” “Oh, no. If I did there would l»e two fools in the race.” “James, I hear that our mutual friend, Habberton,has married the widow Mayhem." “It’s a fact, and she's worth $50,000.” “He surely couldn’t have been attracted by her face.” “Oh, dear, no; it was her figure.” “Harry,” said a Calhoun street coun-ter-jumper to another, “when am I thinner than a shingle?" “You always are.” “Oh, come now, that is not the answer. Do you give it up?” “Yes. Whetrare you?” “When I’m a shaving.” ThE natives of a portion of Australia believe that after death they return as white men. One of them once about to be hung on the scaffold said: “Nebber mind. I’ll make one jump and come back white man with plenty of sixpence.”

Deserted Virginia Homes.

' One afternoon, along with a small party, I went hunting for wild turkeys over the vast track of 4,000 acres of hill and valley, woods and meadow land. And lam sure we galloped through at. ana saw quite as many deserted homes with the once cultivated fields of blue grass and stones falling back into a state of nature. Now I know it is stated and believed that the owners of these fields fell in the war. Not so. These men pushed over the Blue range long ago. Even as early as the day when the present State of Illinois wasi jknown as “Illinois county, State of Virginia,” these little mountain homes were being massed together, and resolving themselves into great cattle, “ranches” like the one on which I have been spending the most delightful days of my life. How many strange, old-new stories one finds down here among these ancient people. And how many curious relies of days “before the war,sah.” —Joaquin \. Mi Iler. ......: .

Religious Note.

The Bev, Mr. Doughcake, having received nothing from his promised salary, waited on the deacons and re-qriested-an allowance. • “But we thought you worked for the Master,” said Brother Brownlow. . “So I do,” replied the impecunious preacher, “but sometimes I am constrained to look to the pay-master.”— Fort Wayne Hoosier. \

He Tried ’Em.

Mr. Taukenphast sometimes Ws a very supercilious way. ‘ The other day he 'entered a grocery on Berry street and asked: “How are these apples; are fit for a hog to eat?” “Don’t know,-rm sure; try’em and see,” said the grocery muni— Hoosier. Henry Davis, of Grayson county, Texas, boasts that he never took a dose - of medicine in his life, never bought a a bushel com or a pound of meat; never was in court; never a watch; never owned or carried a-pistol, and never called his wife by name.